


The Birthday Surprise

by aleysiasnape



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Het, Severus Snape Fest 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleysiasnape/pseuds/aleysiasnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is planning afoot to celebrate the birthday of one master of potions; however, as Lucius and Hermione find, it’s not so easy to pull the wool over the eyes of a former spy. Do we spy a lemon tree on the horizon.</p><p>Please do not repost this without my consent. Thank you!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Birthday Surprise

  
The Birthday Surprise

Severus Snape sighed as he took one look at the calendar and noticed his birthday was only days away. Scowling, he pinched his fingers over the bridge of his nose.

He had reminded Lucius just the night prior that under no circumstances was he to throw him a surprise birthday party. The pompous prat had surprised him one time too many, and Severus had threatened to hex anyone involved in such an unwanted endeavor. He simply wanted to spend the day by himself, brewing potions and reading a nice book. 

He poured himself two fingers of brandy in a shot glass. Gulping it down, he noticed that his assistant had not yet shown up for her shift. _The little Know-It-All is probably conspiring with Lucius, when I told him specifically not to!_ he groused internally, irritated and paranoid with the people in his life. His mood changing by the minute, Snape began pacing back and forth, staring at a time piece attached to his waistcoat, and then at the doors to the apothecary he owned. 

_Come on, witch!_ he thought, ignoring the feelings threatening to bubble over. _Granger is always on time. Where could she be?_ He didn’t examine too closely the real reason behind his worry disguised as frustration. 

When the back door to the shop finally opened to admit the object of his concern, Severus stalked towards her with long strides, eating up the short distance separating them. 

“Where in Merlin’s name have you been?” he thundered, his fists clenching and unclenching. 

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. 

“Well?” he grated, grabbing his timepiece and tapping it for emphasis. 

“I – um, well, went shopping. You _did_ hand me a list of items that needed restocking before I left yesterday. Did you forget?” 

Severus visibly deflated before her and she rolled her eyes, moving further inside and closing the door behind her with a hip. 

“Can you take the parcels and set them on the counter? I really need the loo.” 

Staring at him expectantly, she tried not to giggle when he started forward with a jerk, murmuring, “Yes, of course.” 

When he’d relieved her of the packages, she went to the loo to relieve herself and take out the smaller parcel she had hidden in her coat pocket. The delicate gift couldn’t be shrunk down, so she needed to smuggle it past him and upstairs. Peeking out of the loo, she saw him occupied with her shopping and darted past him, coat in hand. “I’ll be right down… just going to pop upstairs for moment.” 

“Yes, yes, alright,” he waved absently, opening jars and bags carefully to check the authenticity, freshness and amounts. He had no doubts as to the efficiency of Hermione’s shopping habits, but always double checked anyway. One couldn’t afford to sell the type of hard-to-procure ingredients their shop stocked without making absolutely sure everything was in tip-top shape. 

When she re-emerged, he was busy with a customer so she took a stolen moment to admire the sharp cut of his waist coat, trim waist and firm bum. 

It was not for the first time she admired his lithe form. _It should be crime to be so sinfully delicious._ A shiver of desire shot through her. _I hope he doesn’t blow his top when he finds out what Lucius and I are planning. He doesn’t seem suspicious, but still, it’s not like him to bark at me like he did. Severus knew I was out running errands, but it seems as if he’d forgotten. I’ll have to be really careful if we’re going to pull this off._

Hermione was surprised when she caught Severus watching her, obviously fixated on his backside. One tapered brow raised incrementally, chin inclined towards her. “Is there something wrong with my attire, Miss Granger?” he drawled, bottomless black eyes boring into hers. 

Severus could plainly interpret that she had been wool-gathering about him in some manner by the soft, rosy blush that tinted her lightly freckled face. 

“Uh, no! Not at all!” 

“Or perhaps you were simply hoping that I wasn’t going to catch you ogling my arse?” 

Red blood flushed Hermione’s cheeks a brilliant pink and she turned her head away, one delicate hand brought up to cover her face. “This is so embarrassing.” 

“Only if you deem it to be so.” 

She peeked at him from between her fingers, a small smile curling around the edges of her palm. “You’re not angry with me?” 

“On the contrary, you flatter me. But now is not the time to mix business with … pleasure,” he boldly stated, drawing out the last word with a sensual purr and stepping into her personal space. Severus sniffed deeply, obviously letting her witness that he wasn’t immune to her attraction. He placed one scarred, formidable palm on the small of her back and felt her tremble beneath his touch. 

“Come now. We’ve work to do.” 

He turned abruptly and busied himself restocking the shelves, the curious weight of his assistant’s gaze tickling the back of his neck. 

“I – I’ll just tidy up back here then, shall I?” she asked rhetorically, lightly rubbing the place where his warm hand had been. _Is he attracted to me? Oh goddess, I hope so!_

Nothing more was said about the incident for the remainder of the day, even though that short encounter weighed heavily on the minds of both parties for a significant portion of it. 

  


The following morning, Hermione received a note from Lucius asking her to meet with him at her earliest convenience. 

_“Dammit!_ I’m going to be late for work again!” she lamented, hurriedly finishing her croissant and tea. Grabbing her cloak, she stepped outside and turned, Apparating to the gates of Malfoy Manor. 

  


An hour past opening, Hermione tried and failed miserably to sneak in the back door. 

As expected, Severus was in the doorway between the shop and the back entrance, notably glancing at his timepiece and up at his apprentice, tapping his watch impatiently. 

“I know, I know! And I’m sorry. I have so much going on outside of work, and I promise I won’t be late again,” she rushed, practically throwing her coat on a hook as she put an apron over her work robes. 

“I was unaware that events in your personal life superseded your responsibility to the shop.” 

Hermione winced at his tone. “I can explain,” she gestured, shrugging past him to start chopping ingredients he’d already set up. 

She worked on chopping, sorting, weighing and sealing ingredients for a full ten minutes before he replied, by which time she had assumed he wasn’t going to respond. 

“I’m waiting,” he breathed into her hair, causing her to jump and cut the thumb opposite her chopping hand. 

“Dammit!” she cried, pulling the injured digit to her mouth and sucking on it. 

“My apologies,” he countered smoothly, wresting the thumb from her mouth. A murmured spell, soft caress and a kiss plied to the skin healed the minor cut. “There. All better,” he flirted, placing her hand on his chest. 

Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat. “I- I had to stop at Hogwarts and talk to Professor McGonagall. She had to make changes to my study schedule. With the additions to the curriculum, we needed to sort out details before I came in.” 

“And it could not have waited until your lunch break?” he offered, releasing her hand and moving away. 

“No. The arrangements were time-sensitive, and the professor overseeing the credits was leaving on holiday this afternoon.” 

“Very good. For a moment, your absence led me to believe that you and Lucius were making plans.” 

“Plans? Why would Lord Malfoy and I be making plans?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant, even as her hands suddenly shook, and she had to put the knife down. Pretending to be busy with something else, she didn’t notice her employer studying her body language out of the corner of one eye. 

Severus wasn’t fooled. Hermione had always been an open book. He believed her story up to a point, but knew it was only the partial truth. His assistant and best friend had been thick as thieves in her off time since the New Year, and for a moment, his raging jealousy had almost got the better of him until he remembered that she wasn’t his. And then, a chance conversation with one of Lucius’ house elves had tipped him off as to the possible reason for their collaboration. 

Crossing over to the work counter on silent feet, he managed to make her shriek when he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back into his chest. Thankfully, she didn’t have a knife in her hand this time around. 

“Don’t play coy with me, Hermione,” he smoothed, his voice dripping its honeyed caress into her ear. “I will not be tricked again this year. Lucius knows of my wishes, and if I find out you are collaborating with him, there will be a steep price to pay.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. Turning around in his arms, she looked up at his severe features to decipher why Severus would say that. 

He seemed to read her mind and looked over at the calendar. Her gaze was drawn thus, where the accusing date glared back at her. 

_Damn it,_ she thought, _I’ll have to inform Lucius that Severus is on to us._ She tried hard to remain calm in front of Severus, unaware of her body language screaming her intention, plain as the daylight filtering through the shop window. 

“I assure you, Severus, I wouldn’t dream of planning anything with Lucius. After your reaction last year, the last thing I want is a repeat.” 

She smiled sweetly at him, the curve of her lips faltering when he leaned in extremely close to her, his dark eyes roaming over her face, landing and staying on her lips for a full moment before arresting her gaze once more. “I should hope not. You _are_ the brightest witch of this age, after all.” He leaned in towards her. Hermione’s heart sped up anticipating the kiss. 

He pulled back, spinning smartly on one heel and striding away from her. 

Hermione’s lower lip trembled, and she bit it to make the movement stop. _I am in **so** much trouble. _

  


_That little minx has another think coming, if she thinks she and Lucius are going to get away with their plan. And Lucius might just find his monthly potion order slightly ineffective…._ Severus smirked to himself, quite sure they would never be able to fool him despite their best efforts. 

And when he thought about it, his future working relationship with Hermione Granger proved to be rather titillating, if their past couple of exchanges were any indication. 

Meanwhile…

  


Lucius chuckled softly as he read some of the ideas Hermione had come up with pertaining to Severus’ surprise birthday party. While many of them were rather … inventive … Lucius had decided they needed to tone down their original plans in favor of something simple. The vibe he’d just gotten from his best friend through the Floo for his monthly potions order had been stilted and abrupt. There was no need to jeopardize their working relationship. On the contrary, Lucius was hoping the change of plans he’d personally made would draw the taciturn bachelor to his delectably juicy assistant like a moth to flame. 

_She is very clever, this one is. Severus would be a fool to let her slip through his fingers._ A brilliant thought came to mind as he grinned deviously, knowing what to do for Severus’ special day. 

He quickly penned a letter to Hermione, informing her of the change to the birthday party. An intimate dinner would be arranged at the Manor instead of a surprise party with a lot of guests. Only Lucius neglected to add that the only two present would be her and Severus. Oh, Lucius would be around, but not for the main event. 

_I haven’t had this much fun since my divorce a year ago. My, my, where has the time gone?_ the blond aristocrat wondered with a shake of his glorious mane. This dinner date between witch and best friend not only invigorated his spirit, but gave him hope for a suitable mate in his own future. 

He idly recalled that if it hadn’t have been for Hermione and Severus being there for him during his time of grief… well, let’s just say he owed them a debt of gratitude. Lucius had been inconsolable for a time after Narcissa had left. Hermione and Severus practically had to check on him every day to make sure he hadn’t drunk himself to death. 

_What better way to pay them back than with a little push of Cupid’s arrow?_

He knocked back a glass of sherry, sobering at the thought that he could have had Hermione in his own life, indeed, in his very own bed. The beautiful, kind witch had nursed him back to health after he’d been Apparated to wizarding detox, pulling him from the bottom of his despair and lifting him up with support, good food, conversation and advice. During his self-induced illness, he’d held a brief infatuation for Hermione. For his friend’s sake, he hoped that Severus would take this chance at finding happiness. 

Lucius cast a Tempus charm and saw how late it was. He stretched, placed his reading glasses on the desk, and rose from the chair and left the room to get ready for bed. 

  


Although Hermione was tired from work and the multitude of confusing emotions swirling within her, when she arrived home and saw Lucius’ owl waiting patiently for her, she hurried to let the poor thing in. 

Decimus hooted at her while she opened the window. He ruffled his feathers, allowing her to pet his head, feed him a treat, and retrieve Lucius’ scroll. 

She quickly read it, blinked, and reread it again. “Now why didn’t I think of that?” she mused out loud. _Severus can’t refuse a dinner at the Manor with Lucius! Oh, but I’ll need to let Lucius know that Severus cannot know I’ll be there. He’ll think it’s a birthday surprise, for sure,_ she mused, tapping her finger against her pursed lips. 

Grabbing parchment and ink, she quickly wrote out a brief response that updated the plan with the one additional detail, rolled up the letter, and attached it to the owl’s leg. Decimus gratefully wolfed down another owl treat, hooted his response, and flew back to Malfoy Manor. 

She grinned. This would throw Severus off the scent completely. By having Lucius invite him to dinner personally, and Hermione concocting an excuse to babysit or some such nonsense, Severus would never suspect her involvement; or so she hoped. _I hope Lucius agrees to that part of the plan._

Secure in her secret involvement, she let out a self-satisfied smirk and changed out of her work attire. 

  


Lucius was sitting on the edge of his four poster bed when Decimus flew into the master bedroom. _That has to be the fastest response I’ve ever received from her,_ he mused. He fed the owl a treat and retrieved the letter. 

Gently rubbing Decimus’ head, he murmured softly, “That’s all for the night, my faithful friend.” The owl hooted gratefully as he flew to his perch and rooted around, settling on his perch to tear at the premium dried meat. 

Lucius broke the seal and read the message. _Brilliant. She’s absolutely brilliant._

Grinning, he began to plan the private little soirée in his head. An informal brandy, hors-d'oeuvres, Hermione ‘dropping in’, and his own conveniently timed exit. _Oh yes, absolutely perfect. And if Severus fails to take advantage of the opportunity, well…._ Lucius allowed that thought to remain unfinished. 

He laid the letter aside on the bed table, crawled into bed, fluffed the pillows and went to sleep. 

  


Hermione yawned and stretched when she turned her head to see what time it was. “Damn,” she cursed, throwing the covers off of her, taking a quick shower and dressing. 

She managed to get to the shop in time for Severus to meet her at the back entrance with breakfast in hand. 

“I know you’ve not been eating in the morning, so I took the liberty of procuring you sustenance.” Severus was gratified by her speechless stare. “Would you care to open the shop? It is rather brisk this morning,” he admonished lightly, making Hermione blush. 

They tumbled through the doorway and stomped to warm up cold feet. When they’d both tucked into and finished their respective meals, they settled into a content silence with tea. The shop was open, but quiet, as was usual this time of morning. The orders were caught up, ingredients catalogued and stocked, and neither could think of any place they’d rather be, or with whom, than exactly where they were. 

Breaking the silence, Hermione sipped her tea the wrong way and coughed. Catching his raised brow, she ducked her head and smiled. “Thank you, Severus, I just want you to know-“

She was unable to finish her thought when the interruption of Decimus tapping on the window saw her employer instantly on his feet, muttering about what in Hades Lucius wanted now. 

He let the owl in, taking care of its needs and settled back into his chair once more. Severus read the letter, his black eyes travelling back and forth. Quickly, he came to the end and looked up at nothing in particular. With practiced nonchalance, he casually tossed the letter on the small table between them and drawled out, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?” 

Severus didn’t look at her, but saw her snatch the letter from the table and scan it. She held it out to him when she’d finished, but failing to elicit a response, simply set it back on the table instead. 

“Well?” he inquired, sipping his tea, resting it close to his nostrils to appreciate the full aroma and flavor. 

“Well, what?” she countered, sipping her own. “It’s an invitation to dinner with Lucius. What Lord Malfoy chooses to do is none of my concern.” 

Severus’ patience seemed to suddenly run out of rope and snap. He turned on her so quickly the witch nearly dropped her tea in her lap. He rose, setting his own down haphazardly, moving his face until he’d practically made her lean all the way back to the wall. 

“What??” she asked, blindly putting her own tea on the table, hoping it didn’t fall to the floor. 

“Like you don’t know,” he growled, a snarl forming on his lips. “I _told_ you, NO! I _forbid_ the both of you from making asinine plans for my birthday. I absolutely _detest_ celebrating the forward march towards my earthly demise. Yet you and that meddling socialite still think you can trick me into attending some poorly planned, nauseous and aggravating attempt at this thing you dare consider a party. I’m not having it! And you can tell Lucius to shove this invitation up his bloody arse!” he finished, slamming his fist on the table for emphasis, spilling the tea and storming away from her. 

Hermione sat back up, stunned, tears stinging her eyes. _Why does he have to be so bloody **stubborn**?_ she wondered, angrily wiping away the suspicious moisture. 

Cleaning the mess he’d made with a wave of her wand, she then tucked the message into the folds of her robes and grabbed a cleaning rag. 

One by one, every single glass jar and bottle in the shop became the recipient of the best polishing they’d ever had. 

  


Severus paused at the very back of the shop, shoulders shaking with anger. He counted to one hundred, and then did so again before allowing himself even a thought as to what had just transpired between him and the young woman he was falling in love with. 

_She didn’t deny involvement, but then, you didn’t really give her a chance to speak, did you, old chap?_ he chastised internally, irritated with his rash behavior. _Who cares if they’re planning a surprise party? They’re two of the only people, aside from Minerva and Dumbledore, who still give a shit about my well-being. Maybe I was a bit hasty._ It took him a couple of hours to swallow his pride, but he finally cornered the witch when he closed the shop for lunch. 

Severus cleared his throat while Hermione put her coat on with stiff movements. “I’m going out for lunch. Would you care to join me?” 

Hermione ignored him, moving to exit the door when he gently took a step forward and shook her shoulder, trying to get her attention. She turned, a wounded defiance shining in her too-bright eyes. 

_Damn. I’ve really put my foot in it._

“Erm, I believe I owe you an apology,” he ground out, feeling like his throat was filled with sand. 

“And?” she asked, clearly expecting more. 

He hesitated a moment too long, and he panicked a little when she rolled her eyes and started to leave again. “Wait!” he shouted, pulling her back by the sleeve and shutting the door, putting his hand on it to prevent her from leaving. Her incredulous stare left the normally cool and collected Potions master flustered and backpedaling. “Wait,” he began again, clearing his throat. “What I meant to say, is that I wish to apologize. I had no right to accuse you of such a thing, and I was wrong to behave like a Neanderthal. I will understand if you wish to remain angry with me, but do hope you will reconsider my offer of joining me for lunch. It’s the least I can do.” 

Hermione was secretly impressed. It was rare form in which to see Severus Snape humble and apologetic. She wasn’t missing this for the world. Her ‘angry Hermione’ performance hadn’t been fake, but had served the dual purpose of throwing him off the scent, or so she hoped. It was always hard to tell with Severus. All in all, the plan was working out perfectly. As an added bonus, she suspected he was falling for her, if not as quickly or as hard as she already had for him. 

They went to a lovely café not far from the shop and had a scrumptious meal. Severus admitted that he did miss having dinner with Lucius on occasion, and supposed he owed the bachelor a visit. He was relieved and a little disappointed to learn Hermione really did have nothing to do with the invitation. He watched her body language carefully, dismayed when she seemed to be telling him the truth. Had he been truly wrong about her involvement in anything pertaining to Lucius? Was she planning something else? Severus knew something was up, because his interpretation of her body language was rarely off, but perhaps this was one of those times. 

“I’ll be babysitting Harry and Ginny’s son that night,” she had fibbed, making a mental note to ensure they would back up her alibi, _just in case._ One couldn’t be too careful, when planning a surprise for a former spy. 

  


On the eve of his birthday, Severus hummed as he poured the potion into vials, setting them aside to cool off. Lucius had the best wine cellar he’d ever come across, and the Potions master was looking forward to a quiet evening full of good food, intelligent conversation and perhaps something a tad illegal. After all, Lucius was, if not, stocked with everything a person might need or want when it came to relaxing. 

  


Hermione nervously smoothed the front of her evening gown one more time. It seemed incredibly daring for her, but admittedly appropriate for dinner with a socialite of Malfoy’s standing. _Lucius has really good taste in clothing. I should consult him more often when I need something for fancy dress._

“You look just peachy,” her mirror supplied helpfully. “The lad will never know what hit him!” 

“I’m sure,” she replied softly, “but let’s just hope he doesn’t hit the roof when he finds out I lied to him.” 

The mirror tutted at her as she turned and went through the Floo, but she ignored its fussing as she called out, “Malfoy Manor!” 

  


Everything was ready. Dinner? Check. Candlelight? Check. Alcohol? Check. Guests? Lucius called the elf that was in charge of looking after his guests. 

“Bastion!” he shouted, having to call a second time. “Damn and blazes, answer me!” 

The slightly insolent elf popped into view, bowing slightly. “Yes, my Lord?” he answered perfectly. 

Lucius tried not to grind his teeth. It was very bad for the enamel. “Why do you persist in making me wait?” he said, ignoring the urge to slap the small creature. Hermione had long since cured him of his tendency towards violence concerning house elves, but old habits died hard when it came to how he reacted when provoked. 

The elf smiled at him, its rows of teeth gleaming horridly in the candlelight. “The Lady is here, my Lord,” he replied, which wasn’t any sort of an answer, but Lucius supposed would have to do. 

“Bring her to the table and have her seated. I need take care of one more detail.” 

“Yes, my Lord,” the elf stated smartly and vanished with a ‘pop.’ 

Lucius growled under his breath and took long strides out of the room and up the stairs to retrieve Severus’ birthday gift. 

  


Severus was surprised when his Floo took him to the opposite wing of the Manor than it normally did. He wondered if it was intentional and frowned, shaking his head. _You’re being paranoid, old chap. You’re having dinner with an old friend, nothing more._

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. 

Lips set in a thin line, he marched down the marble hallway, deciding not to alert Lucius to his presence, even though he was pretty sure the man knew everything concerning the comings and goings of his guests. 

  


Hermione sat at the long table, set only at one end for three. The dinner looked delicious, held warm and fresh under stasis charms. She rose when Lucius appeared in the doorway, clearing his throat lightly to get her attention. 

The Lord’s jaw would have dropped, if it hadn’t of been so undignified. 

Lucius stepped into the younger witch’s space and embraced her tightly. And if her firm, young breasts pressed into his chest and he enjoyed it then that was certainly nothing to complain about. 

“Hermione, my dear, you look divine. Severus won’t know what hit him.” 

Hermione blushed, and not for the first time Lucius wondered how far down it went. Pulling his mind out of the perpetual gutter it seemed to be in, he released her and held her shoulders, eyes travelling over her face. 

“You are well?” 

“As can be expected. Lucius, are you _sure_ this is a good idea? I am a bit nervous. Severus was quite adamant he wanted nothing to do with any surprises. When he finds out we both lied to him, he’s liable to give me the sack.” 

Lucius pursed his lips and tutted. “Nonsense. We will simply have to show Severus a good time. Trust me.” 

Hermione nodded and bit her lip, feeling a sense of foreboding about this. 

Lucius raised his chin, cocking his blond head to the side as if listening to something too faint to hear. 

“What is it?” Hermione asked curiously. 

A smile spread like melted butter across the Malfoy patriarch’s face. “Our friend has arrived. I believe he is unhappy that he was inconveniently rerouted to the wrong wing of the Manor. I am going to escort you to the Rose Room. Stay there until my elf summons you.” 

“What do you mean?” Hermione started to say, huffing when Lucius swept from the room, pulling her behind by the hand. 

He smirked, mentally undressing her with his eyes and winking as he escorted her into the Rose Room and shut the door. 

“My elf will summon you,” she mimicked in the most unflattering way she could manage. “Right, it appears as if Lucius has plans he neglected to tell me about. Well, then he won’t mind if I help myself to one of his books.” 

Hermione settled herself into a wingback chair by the fire in the cozy reading room and lost herself in a novel. 

  


Lucius seemed to appear out of nowhere. 

One moment, Severus was in full Potions-master mode, mid-stride, and the next, stopped cold and wand in hand. 

“Tsk, tsk, now, Severus, is that any way to greet your host?” 

Severus snorted and stowed his wand. “Your ridiculous attempt to thwart my arrival has backfired.” 

Lucius clutched his chest in mock horror. “Now, why would I do something like that?” 

All he earned for his trouble was a sneer, and was shouldered aside as Severus resumed his formidable stride. 

“Ah, a moment, if you would,” Lucius called out, stepping neatly to catch up with is friend. 

“You can tell me whatever it is you have to say while we walk.” 

“Actually, there’s something you need to know before we sit down to dinner.” 

“I am already aware of Miss Granger’s presence, so you can drop the pretense, Lucius.” The thick silence, save for boots clicking on the marble floor, told Severus all he needed to know. “Where is she?” 

“Wouldn’t you first like to have a finger or two? My elf is ready to pour a libation in my study –“

 _“Where is she?”_ he grated, stopping so quickly his friend almost tripped on top of him. 

Lucius studied the cold fury in Severus’ eyes. Every ounce of teasing fled from their presence. “She’s in the Rose Room.” 

Lips set in a thin line, the Potions master turned smartly on one heel and left Lucius studying his form, growing smaller and smaller down the hallway before taking a corner and disappearing from view. 

  


Hermione jumped, upending her book to the floor, squeaking in surprise. Her mouth dropped open and just as quickly snapped shut. It was an instantaneous reaction to her employer always reminding her not to gape like a dead codfish. 

“Sev- Severus!” she stammered, her eyes flicking uselessly around the small room. She had been waiting for a house elf, or Lucius, to contact her. The sudden appearance of their dark friend startled her. 

Not seeing their host, she wrung her hands together in a nervous effort to keep her jangled emotions under control. “I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Obviously,” he drawled dangerously, chin tilted down, eyes narrowed. His stance was aggressive and fists were balled tightly at his sides. 

“Um, Happy Birthday! Surprise!” she forced brightly, wincing outwardly when he hissed his displeasure. 

“I can see your word means _absolutely nothing,”_ he admonished severely, feet rooted to the spot. “Despite my obvious displeasure from last year, and repeated warnings _not_ to pull the same stunt again this year, my requests go unheeded. Yet, you _and_ Lucius proclaim to be my closest allies. _LIARS,”_ he accused, pointing one long finger in her direction. 

Prompted into action by his accusation, Hermione took a step forward, hesitating wisely when he shook his finger once at her in warning. “But this is nothing like last year! Lucius and I only wanted to have dinner with you, and I think he had something else planned afterward, but I’m not completely sure.” 

“Go on,” the dark wizard grated, ignoring the hair that had fallen into his line of vision. 

“And I know I told you I was going to be babysitting, but you’re always so busy, and I didn’t know any other time I’d get a chance to – oh, bugger. This has all gone wrong, and now you’re going to give me the sack, aren’t you?” she smiled sadly, her gesticulating arms falling to her sides uselessly. Despite her best efforts, tears pricked the corner of her eyes and one escaped, making a lonely trail onto her cheek. 

Severus’ frame seemed to lose some of its tension, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose before allowing his shoulders to sag slightly. Lifting his chin and regaining eye contact with the younger witch, he studied her and made a decision. 

“You, and Lucius, both know better than to toy with my trust.” 

“I would apologize, but I don’t know that it would do any good.” 

“Your Gryffindor penchant for believing a good outcome of every scenario is tiresome.” 

Hermione seemed to wilt under the sharp criticism, almost sure she had lost what she’d worked so hard to gain, but the man wasn’t through with her yet. 

Stepping forward into her space, he lowered his voice an octave and lifted her chin with one finger. A knuckle lifted the tear from her cheek and he held it between them like an offering. “Words mean nothing to me. But this – oh yes, I’ve come to know you, Hermione – and ….” His voice grew gruff with suppressed emotion, and he cleared his throat several times, attempting to maintain semblance of control. “If this means what I believe it to be, the answer is yes.” 

Hope flared to life in her chocolate brown eyes. A smile that could rival the sun’s rays broke through the thunderclouds of disappointment. “Yes?” 

“Yes,” he confirmed, growling. “I dislike having to repeat myself.” 

Standing on tiptoe, she moved her face closer to him and closed her eyes, hoping beyond hope this was what he had meant. 

Success never felt so sweet. Dinner forgotten, Hermione felt the first flutter of breath on her lips before Severus devoured her, arms wrapping around her firmly as they burst through the tension both had been dancing around for months on end. 

Her hands explored under the dinner jacket Severus wore, which was quickly discarded. 

His hands carded through her carefully coiffed hair, pins and combs falling to the floor as they were set free. 

“Took me over an hour to get my hair like that,” she huffed between kisses, feeling drunk on the quickly escalating lust between them. 

“I do not require additional effort to find myself attracted to you, Hermione,” he said, kissing his way down her collarbone and nuzzling at her generous cleavage. “Although this is a very, very nice dress, it will look splendid on the back of the chair.” 

Stifling a breathy laugh, Hermione helped Severus divest himself of his vest, shirt and undershirt. “Too many layers,” she complained, running her hands over his firm bum. 

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled. “I can take care of that.” In a trice they were both naked, too high on one another to be shy. 

He backed her into a portrait, silencing the sputtering old spinster that objected to such lewd treatment. 

“Severus!” Hermione admonished, silenced in a completely different way when he hiked her onto his hips, kissing her into compliance. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this,” he admitted, rutting impatiently against her clit. 

“Oh, shit, don’t stop!” 

“I’ve no intention.” 

Holding nothing to ceremony, he lifted her briefly and impaled her onto his cock. Their breath hitched in harmony, her eyes wide, and emotion written like an open book for him to read. Severus felt his heart lurch, and knew this was far more than what he had bargained for, but resolved not push it away. Her sincerity was never in doubt. 

“Severus!” she cried out, tightening deliciously around his cock. Both legs wrapped firmly around his waist, she dug her heels into his bum, encouraging him to fuck her. 

“Minx!” he growled, claiming her mouth while rutting strongly against her, upsetting the portrait. It crashed to the floor but he simply moved her over a foot, never losing his rhythm. 

The old biddy in the portrait waved a fist angrily, uselessly up at them, crossing her arms and turning away with a silent sniff. 

The incredibly wet witch gushed over Severus’ cock, causing him to fuck her even harder, swallowing her cries with his mouth. 

  


Lucius hurried along the hall, swearing under his breath about incompetent house elves and the sudden damned inconvenience of an after-hours Ministry Floo call. 

Barely noticing the shut door, he opened it and began speaking as he stepped through. “I apologize for the delay, but – ah – yes. I see, well then.” And promptly turned around and let himself out, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

He let a Grinch-like smile curl around the edges of his mouth, clicking his heels together smartly. 

“Well done, old chap,” he congratulated, not specifying either himself or his friend. But it mattered not, for the host excused himself to the dining room to enjoy the meal in peace, and left his guests to their own devices. 

  


Arching into the sexy witch with the last of his reserve, Severus uttered a sharp cry and came heavily inside of her, shuddering until the last pulses faded away. 

They slumped together to the floor, sticky, disheveled and deeply satisfied. 

“Happy Birthday, Severus,” Hermione breathed, still trying to recover her normal respiration. 

“I’ll say,” he replied, resting his forehead on her sweaty shoulder. 

“Did you hear Lucius come in?” she wondered aloud, gently pushing the hair out of his face. 

Severus shook his head, the hair instantly falling back where it was wont to go. “No. But if he did, we gave him a hell of a show.” 

They were quiet for several minutes, and Hermione began to feel a bit self-conscious. “Well, erm, I guess I better be going,” she trailed off, biting her lower lip. He didn’t reply, and she began to disentangle herself from him. 

“No, you don’t!” he suddenly responded with heated vehemence. “I’ve let too many good things fade from my life. I’m not making the same mistake again.” 

Hermione’s grin could have broken a world record, and she hugged him impetuously. 

The crack of Apparition was loud in the room, and as the enchantment resolved from the portrait, the old biddy hollered, “And don’t come back, dirty buggering heathens!” 


End file.
